


Recognition, response

by murkya



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26966701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murkya/pseuds/murkya
Summary: Choi Chanhee: self-assured, incisive, king of social complexities.Lee Juyeon: charismatic performer, potential it boy, and a man of hidden depths.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Lee Juyeon
Comments: 20
Kudos: 136





	Recognition, response

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you as per usual to my perennial hand-holder [hyungcomplex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyungcomplex) and to everyone else who has facilitated deobification.

The door to Younghoon and Juyeon’s room is ajar. Only a couple of centimeters; Chanhee barely notices, sliver of bedframe and blanket and bent knee in his periphery on the way to the kitchen. Halfway through a step, though, and he gets caught: Juyeon looks up from his ipad right as Chanhee passes, and Chanhee's eyes meet Juyeon’s, looking back at him dark and quiet through the gap.

Chanhee resists the urge to go still, just blinks back and keeps walking. Jaehyun and Eric are in the lounge room yelling about video games; they won’t notice anything. Chanhee gets his drink from the fridge, checks to see if his food is still where he hid it up the back, then goes to close the fridge and thinks better of it — he grabs two facepacks and turns back the way he came. 

Chanhee slips into the room, closes the door behind him and locks it with a _snick_ that resonates through his belly. Juyeon puts his ipad down. 

“Hi,” Chanhee says, holding up the facepacks.

“Oh,” Juyeon says, sitting up in his bunk. “I thought you…”

Chanhee puts the facepack down on the desk. “Yes. They’re for after.”

And then he clambers on top of Juyeon in his cramped bunk, hum of excitement at the back of his teeth, in his hands. Juyeon shifts back and makes room for him easily, says, “wait,” and carefully puts his ipad on the floor next to the bed; then he shimmies lower and pulls at Chanhee until he leans his weight against Juyeon fully. Juyeon does not seem to have yet realised that kissing is not expected of straight hookups, and Chanhee isn’t going to tell him otherwise, not when he kisses Chanhee’s neck like that. Chanhee gets his fingers tight in the hair at the back of Juyeon’s head, tugs him away and listens with satisfaction to the grunt at the back of Juyeon’s throat. Juyeon is warm beneath him, moves easily when Chanhee tilts him just so to get the angle right and kiss him on the mouth, Chanhee’s heartbeat quick and galloping ahead. 

Juyeon’s hand is on Chanhee’s hip, fingers carefully tucked into the waistband of Chanhee’s sweatpants, two knuckles pressed against Chanhee’s skin. Chanhee gets his own hand down Juyeon’s pants more assertively, and Juyeon shifts until his hand is spread wide across Chanhee’s back instead, warm and heavy. Chanhee can feel Juyeon concentrating on it, like the angle between Chanhee’s shoulder-blades is immensely important to Juyeon for some reason, and it makes Chanhee feel— rushed, trying to move quicker, trying to get past thinking about that consideration. Thankfully Juyeon goes back to kissing Chanhee’s neck, which is a good distraction, even if it does also make Chanhee lose his rhythm for a moment, and then things get too good for Juyeon to focus and he just clenches his hand in the back of Chanhee’s shirt, pulling it tight, tight, tight as he gulps against Chanhee’s throat. 

Afterwards Juyeon flops back against the bed and heaves a great sigh, and Chanhee uses his left hand to fumble for the tissue box next to the bed; Juyeon is grinning at him fairly stupidly, eyes creased up happily. This time when he tries to get his hands down Chanhee’s pants Chanhee lets him, and Chanhee presses his face into the pillow by Juyeon’s shoulder when he comes, trying not to make any noise. 

Chanhee lies there for a moment, the weight of Juyeon’s hand on his back again. It’s satisfying, an easy thing to want against him. Then he sits up, passes Juyeon the tissues and gets the facepacks. 

“Here you go,” he says, ripping the packets open and standing to see the mirror as he puts his on. Juyeon smooths his own without looking, and Chanhee tuts and fixes the edges for him, then sits back down at the end of the bed instead of leaving. Juyeon easily makes room for him, hooking Chanhee’s ankle with his foot to arrange their legs. He gets his ipad out again and Chanhee rests his head against the bedpost.

“Thanks,” Juyeon says, his facepack creasing. Even though Juyeon is looking down Chanhee can see the way he’s smiling. 

“Sure,” Chanhee says, his heart racing on without him. He’s still thinking of the moment when their eyes had met through the door, not even the entirety of Juyeon’s face visible, but the rest of it so easy to imagine just from the planes Chanhee could see, the cut of his cheekbone, smudge of shadow under his eyes. The invisible thing between them had burst into being instantly, a narrow, totalising force, and Chanhee had been gripped by it completely. 

***

It had started not long after promotions had finished — they had drinks at the offices with some of the staff to celebrate, and it was 2 am, and Chanhee was very drunk and happy. He went to the bathroom, washed his hands, inspected his roots — he was overdue for a touch-up, but he suspected they weren’t sure what they wanted to do with his colour next. He was flushed and shiny-eyed, and he couldn’t stop smiling, even at his own reflection. He felt light inside, everything replaced with the glowed up, blown wide expanse of success. 

In the hallway on the way back to the dance studio where everyone else was and suddenly Juyeon was there, leaning against the wall. He pushed himself off when he saw Chanhee, and despite the weather outside he was wearing a tank top with his arms out, and that combined with all the alcohol was Chanhee’s excuse for what he did next, which was allow himself to actually _think_ about Juyeon. This was something he usually only ever did with plenty of mental defenses up; as it was he found himself chewing the inside of his cheek, holding back a comment. 

“Kevin’s making cocktails, I got you one,” Juyeon said, holding out a plastic cup. Chanhee took it and then looked in the cup and back up at Juyeon. He was drunk too. Pink in the face, free of makeup and hair only barely styled, Juyeon still looked very, very good. 

“Why,” Chanhee said, then drank from it anyway. It was horrifically sweet, then horrifically bitter, and Chanhee sucked air in between his teeth after.

“Now you owe me,” Juyeon said, half-smirking, like this was an incredibly smart maneuver on his part. 

“Uh huh,” Chanhee said, not impressed. Juyeon had gotten brave this year. He’d always been obstinate, and proud too, in a relatively understated, inoffensive way, hard for anyone to notice unless you were looking for it. Now, though, getting the centre push seemed to have made him aware of his powers off stage as well, and he had spent most of the evening flirting with the stylist noonas. He was getting a little too bold for Chanhee’s taste, and right now he was looking at Chanhee with anticipation, waiting for Chanhee’s next move. 

“Is that so,” Chanhee said, and took a few steps back to lean against the wall with his shoulders, hips still popped out. Juyeon stepped forward instinctively, following, and Chanhee thought, _ah, good._ Chanhee did not do this, as a rule, but he was at a unique juncture in his life, Juyeon’s arms looked very tempting, and Chanhee was in the mood to indulge in a rare act of indiscretion. 

“Yeah,” Juyeon said, still assertive but a little more aimless. He thought he had the upper hand and he had no idea what to do with it.

“Well,” Chanhee said, drawing it out, tilting his head. Juyeon watched the movement a little slack-mouthed. Plenty of straight men were still stunned enough by a pretty face to be convinced of any number of things, and Chanhee knew he was pretty. 

“When you figure out what you want,” Chanhee finished, shoving off the wall and standing up abruptly, and Juyeon blinked and jerked back. Chanhee was very impressed with himself until he _kept going_ , his balance off from the drink, and he was bumping right into Juyeon, and the whole effect was _ruined —_ he really had just been fucking with him, nothing more — but Juyeon had one hand against Chanhee’s side, catching him, and he was _laughing_ , and at that point it just seemed like the easiest thing to do was down the rest of his poisonous drink, drop the cup, and drag Juyeon by the belt-loops into the nearest dark, empty office. 

***

So they sneak around every now and then. With the chaos of promotions and the restrictions on going out, Chanhee hasn’t seen any of his regular hookups in ages, and there’s only so much satisfaction to be received from bossing around Younghoon and Sunwoo. Chanhee would have thought it to be an impossibly stupid decision, to start a casual sex arrangement with a group member, but the social fabric of the group has already been tested by Chanhee and Kevin’s strange little break-up moment anyway, and they hadn’t even been— involved. Not like that. 

That whole ordeal had been weathered by everyone relatively well, and now him and Kevin are friends again, so really it isn’t as if _this_ is all that dangerous. Maybe if it was Changmin or Younghoon, Chanhee can admit that it could lead to real problems; they’re his actual close friends, and Chanhee won’t risk that with further complexities. 

But Juyeon is...not distant, exactly, not _not_ a friend, because they trust each other and enjoy each other’s company, but they aren’t each other’s closest. Chanhee also suspects that it’s basically impossible to hurt Juyeon’s feelings, the impenetrable shield of obliviousness to social intricacies and good humour underneath that. Juyeon being — and here Chanhee pauses in his ruminations, carefully applying his nightly skincare — yes, straight, is yet another layer of distance that’ll prevent this from being anything worth worrying about.

Juyeon, easily convinced of most things, seems to have only the most minimal concerns. Once, in Juyeon and Eric’s studio, because Chanhee doesn’t want to sully his _own_ studio, thank you very much, Chanhee deigns to sit in Juyeon’s lap and jerk them both off, and afterwards Juyeon says, “We shouldn’t tell anyone.”

Chanhee, whose hands are quite literally too full for this sort of conversation, casts about looking for the tissues, then finally spots them on the desk; he has to lean, and the chair swings and creaks ominously. 

“Thanks for the help,” Chanhee says, wiping his hands finally. 

“I don’t think we should tell anyone we’re sleeping together,” Juyeon says again, and Chanhee wants to roll his eyes or wince, maybe, in second-hand embarrassment. They aren’t _sleeping_ together, and it is charming but painful that Juyeon thinks that there is anything worth protecting with secrecy: Chanhee takes advantage of Juyeon’s artsy pretension and willingness to be flexible in the cause of open-mindedness, they screw around, and then they go their separate ways again. Maybe they do fall asleep next to each other in the van sometimes, but so do all of them. It is unlikely that Juyeon and Chanhee will ever actually share a bed in that easy, comfortable way, intimate without the end purpose of sex, if only because that would probably be the thing to tip people off. 

“Yes,” Chanhee says. “Obviously.” There is no chance this will stay a secret. Chanhee doesn’t want to ruin Juyeon’s good mood with the bad news, though, and Juyeon looks sincere, intent in a way that clutches at Chanhee’s heart. It’s _nice_ that he wants to keep this hidden, Chanhee thinks. Chanhee has never really considered Juyeon being protective, before. 

Chanhee just makes sure the tissues are properly disposed of and that his shirt is tucked in properly. Juyeon is still sprawled in the chair, looking fuzzily satisfied. When Chanhee angles past to get his bag Juyeon turns the chair to follow, sticking out a leg and blocking Chanhee’s path out. Juyeon tries to fiddle with Chanhee’s belt, straighten it up — Chanhee is completely certain that it was already fine, thank you very much, but he watches Juyeon’s careful, large hands with patience. 

“See you back at the dorms,” Chanhee says, then fixes Juyeon’s hair for him, which did actually need the fussing over. Juyeon stays still, his eyes on Chanhee as he smiles. Chanhee steps over his shin easily on his way out. 

***

That first time, when Chanhee had lost his mind and gone to his knees in someone’s unlit office and undone Juyeon’s belt buckle— when he’d sucked him off for what honestly had been quite a long time, because they had both been drinking— when Chanhee had been sucking him off and looked up, Juyeon had been watching him, his eyes wide and stunned, his chest heaving, and when their eyes met Juyeon dropped his hand onto Chanhee’s shoulder and left it there, very very still even when he started making a strange high-pitched noise that Chanhee assumed was good.

When Juyeon came Chanhee had to rock back on his heels as Juyeon slid down the wall, and then he sat cross-legged in the middle of Juyeon’s spread legs, long lines either side of him. He reached out and patted Juyeon’s knee, watching Juyeon lean his head back against the wall, still breathing heavily. The room had silvery cuts of light coming in through a window, narrow streaks across Juyeon’s face. His throat was shining and Chanhee wanted to bite it. Chanhee wiped his own face, and Juyeon started laughing as he did his pants back up. 

Chanhee was surprised by how not-awkward it was. Probably due to how drunk they both still were. He felt like he ought to say something, like, “Was that worth the drink?”, or “Now you owe _me,_ ” just to see Juyeon squirm, but he didn’t. Chanhee got himself standing before Juyeon could offer him a hand up or anything, and they stared at each other for a moment. Probably no-one had noticed they were gone; if they had, they’d think nothing of it. At least Juyeon looked far worse off than Chanhee did, still flushed and messy, his hair rucked up and sticking out at odd angles.

“Well,” Chanhee said, “wasn’t that fun,” and then got the door for them. Juyeon followed him wordlessly, slinging his arm around Chanhee’s shoulder as easily as if it were any other day.

***

They’re pre-filming all their Christmas and New Year’s content before they go on break. Chanhee maybe has more a little fun with it than he should, making Juyeon flustered just because he can; they play the _of course_ game and when Chanhee says, “You like me the most out of everyone,” Juyeon blurts “no!” and loses, frustrated and shaking his head. Chanhee wants to laugh or maybe hit him, the predictable, amusing ways Juyeon gives himself away. Everyone picks on Juyeon, teases him with _oh aren’t you so fair, egalitarian, wanting to make sure no one’s feelings are hurt,_ and the whole time Chanhee is avoiding eye-contact, turned away, laughing into his hands. 

Despite all of his insistences, Juyeon will be the one to give it away, Chanhee thinks. He’s too honest, showing just how seriously he takes everything in the precise moment he tries to hide it. Of course there’s always the possibility that someone will notice Chanhee being a little too delighted by it in the background — Chanhee’s always been the worst at holding in laughter. 

Another time, and Juyeon is cooking dinner. Ostensibly Chanhee is too, but Sunwoo is running late on the way back from the studio, so really he’s just hanging out and bothering Juyeon. Chanhee leans his hands on Juyeon’s shoulder to rest his chin on as he watches. Juyeon is fussy and careful in the kitchen, always taking far too long to do anything, and it’s fun to watch. He’s making some european dish, something red and stew-like and perfect for winter, and Chanhee makes all sorts of appreciative noises as Juyeon explains at length where he got all the ingredients from and why he had cooked them just so. 

Noise behind them: Chanhee jumps a little, but makes sure to turn slowly to see who it is. Haknyeon is at the fridge, apparently oblivious, but Juyeon jerks away from Chanhee a little too sharply and Haknyeon looks over at the movement. Juyeon opens his mouth to say something, then waves with his spoon. Haknyeon waves back, confused.

Chanhee resists the urge to roll his eyes and drifts away to do the washing up. Chanhee is not particularly upset by Juyeon’s jitters. Chanhee has only limited patience for straight-boy drama, yes, but Juyeon doesn’t do it when it’s just them, and it’s not as if Chanhee expects Juyeon to betray his loyalties. Chanhee isn’t even sure if Juyeon has loyalties, as such. He seems to think of everyone in the group as the exact same sort of friend, with the exact same level of comfort and familiarity. Chanhee does not think this has changed very much since they started— their thing. 

Haknyeon leaves again, and Juyeon looks over at Chanhee with his head ducked, contrite. Chanhee rinses his hands and comes back to the stovetop, tries the beef chunk Juyeon fishes out of the stew for him. It’s good, and Chanhee says so, then goes back to watching silently. When they first met all those years ago Chanhee had dealt with his nerves around Juyeon by babbling, filling the silence, but he doesn’t feel the need to do that anymore. 

***

Over the Christmas and New Year’s break Juyeon texts him fashion articles and photoshoots, things that Chanhee likes. Obviously Juyeon knows the labels and designers Chanhee is fond of since he wears them all the time, but there’s other things too, things not quite to Chanhee’s taste but interesting anyway. He sends Chanhee a playlist as well, weird english music that Chanhee thinks Juyeon must have gotten off Kevin. Maybe Juyeon’s bored or something, cooped up with family. 

Chanhee forgets to reply for a while, especially once Sunwoo starts sending a thousand pictures of his family and all their meals, but Juyeon doesn’t seem particularly bothered. Like usual, he seems satisfied to take whatever Chanhee offers. 

Juyeon sends a long heartfelt message to the group chat on New Year’s and then another one to Chanhee privately, just a short, oddly formal _Let’s be healthy and lucky this year, Chanhee,_ and Chanhee, feeling a strange, swooping feeling, does not screenshot it and send to Sunwoo to make fun of like he would have any other year. 

***

Chanhee gets home late from a photoshoot. They’re all getting busy again, management trying to get them out and about before the comeback prep has them too exhausted to think. He’s halfway up his bunk ladder before he sees the shadows in the darkness of his bed shift towards him. He jumps and almost falls backwards, the ladder creaking ominously, and Juyeon leans out of the velvety darkness to put his hand over Chanhee’s. Chanhee’s eyebrows are very, very, high up, and he climbs the rest of the way as quickly as he can, peering down to make sure Eric is still asleep below. 

Chanhee doesn’t bother asking why Juyeon is here — he’s never laid in wait like this before, but it’s not hard to figure out. It’s only been a week or so since the New Year’s break and they haven’t had much time to themselves. Still, Chanhee is fluttery and unsettled, Juyeon quietly sitting up as Chanhee sits across from him. Juyeon reaches across to kiss him and Chanhee feels suddenly snared, lines of Juyeon’s fingers against his jaw. 

Chanhee has no problem being the one to take what he wants. In fact he very much enjoys being the one to look at Juyeon in the dorm and think, _yes, I think tonight I will._ Now, with Juyeon pressing in very close and asking for him with his hands and mouth, Chanhee feels a small, wild feeling streaking free of him, like a flash of anger or temper but made out of something good instead. 

Chanhee is so distracted by Juyeon’s tongue— he’s _really_ kissing him, properly— and they’re here, in Chanhee’s bed together— Chanhee breathes out hard, swallows when Juyeon puts his hand high up on Chanhee’s thigh, just enough grip to be sure of his strength. Chanhee is— affected despite himself. Moreso knowing that Juyeon is being _deliberate_ about this, pushing at Chanhee’s shoulder and pulling at his leg with his other hand, trying to get Chanhee arranged to his liking. Chanhee, for once in his life, follows Juyeon’s lead. 

It’s too dark to see much of Juyeon’s expression when he hovers over Chanhee. Chanhee touches Juyeon’s shoulder, wanting to ask what is going on but not wanting to make any noise; then he gets his hands underneath Juyeon’s shirt, because he may as well enjoy himself. Juyeon presses in closer, straddling him, and Chanhee props his knee up, and the bed is very narrow, and they are arranged as best as they can be, close and bumping into each other with Juyeon’s breathing quiet in Chanhee’s ear. Chanhee can feel the shift and pull of Juyeon’s muscles under his hands, warm skin and the strong line of his hipbone. 

Juyeon kisses him again, and Chanhee isn’t sure what shifts, but something _does_ , and even though Juyeon is spread across him he is moving carefully in response to Chanhee’s hands, hitching closer when Chanhee nudges him. Chanhee kisses Juyeon's jaw, and Juyeon shows his neck easily, makes a cut-off sound when Chanhee manoeuvres to bite his collarbone just a little. When Chanhee moves to get his hand under the back of Juyeon's shirt again Chanhee feels him flex and rise into the touch. 

Chanhee has a lap full of Juyeon, he realises; Juyeon has handed himself to him; it is very easy to kiss Juyeon and guide him to grind slowly against Chanhee in time with the low, steady pulse of want thrumming between them. 

Juyeon has himself propped up on his elbows, and he leans sideways, breaks away from Chanhee— Chanhee reaches for Juyeon’s waistband, fairly eager, but Juyeon bumps his forehead against Chanhee’s and shakes his head, and then quietly and carefully moves himself down the bed. 

Chanhee doesn’t freeze, as such, but he still feels tangled in the moment, realising what Juyeon is about to do. Chanhee does help Juyeon get Chanhee’s pants down, at least, and then Chanhee holds his breath, like this is too fragile to risk the movement. How silly of him. Juyeon doesn’t hesitate, no shyness or unsurety. 

_Juyeon is sucking my dick,_ Chanhee thinks, and then is distracted by Juyeon’s hand sliding up his waist easily. Juyeon takes his time, intent and slow, and Chanhee can feel him figuring out what Chanhee likes, adjusting when Chanhee hitches forward. When Chanhee puts a hand on Juyeon’s shoulder he hums, and Chanhee has to gulp, tries to stay quiet. Chanhee can only spare a scattered flash of attention to wonder how much deliberation was involved in choosing to do this here, above Eric sleeping below them; Juyeon hollows his cheeks and sucks carefully and then Chanhee is completely, truly focused on Juyeon, rising inside himself to hum along the surfaces where they’re touching, the slide of Juyeon’s tongue, the sweaty warmth of Juyeon’s neck under Chanhee’s hands, the rough cottony edge of Juyeon’s shirt. 

Chanhee does not want to say a single word, doesn’t want to make a sound. He wishes he could _see,_ but instead Juyeon draws it out of him in the dark, everything perfect and tight, and Chanhee has to hold onto the bedframe above his head, strong hold and trying very very hard not to fuck up into Juyeon’s mouth, even though it seems like Juyeon might _like that_ , from the way he’s moving easily, wet and smooth, eager. 

“I,” Chanhee says, as quietly as he can, tapping Juyeon’s shoulder insistently, glad he has to be quiet so he can’t finish the sentence and blurt out, _am going to come_ _so fucking hard._

Juyeon pulls off slowly, _like he’s sad to go,_ and Chanhee almost laughs, but then Juyeon keeps jerking him off, easy and strong, and Chanhee comes _across Juyeon’s mouth—_ Chanhee can see the glint of Juyeon’s teeth shining in the dark as he grins. Chanhee clenches his jaw, satisfaction and electrical pulse in his gut, everything else stripped bare; he’s thoughtless, overwhelmed, stuck in the moment and shivering. 

Juyeon carefully climbs back up to hang over Chanhee. Chanhee just lies there, trying to catch his breath, and Juyeon is still smiling. Chanhee, in wonder, reaches up and wipes his own come from Juyeon’s face. Juyeon leans into the touch. 

“I should go,” Juyeon whispers hoarsely. Chanhee just nods, still too stunned for rational thought. Juyeon very quietly gets himself down the bunk ladder, and Chanhee turns to watch him go, Juyeon dropping to a half crouch before he pads out of the room, light-footed and nimble. 

Juyeon has just given him the best blow-job of his life, Chanhee realises, too cumdrunk and shocked to think of anything beyond this. 

***

Later, of course, Chanhee has the time to really process the way all of his worldviews and assumptions have been turned inside out. He wonders if Juyeon did it to fuck with him, to destabilise and yank the power balance sideways; that might be a fun new element to the arrangement. But Chanhee can’t really delude himself on this front: Juyeon is too fundamentally honest for those sorts of machinations.

No, Chanhee has to admit it— Juyeon had done it because he wanted to, far more simple than anything else Chanhee could come up with, and far more terrifying too. Mister Class President, Most Easy-going, No.1 Most Gullible, Most Hours Spent In Front Of Mirror Admiring Own Muscles… and most willing to do anything to get Chanhee off. Chanhee has never been scared of Juyeon until now.

Chanhee keeps watching for signs of it, like some sort of demonic possession that must surely come over Juyeon at other times as well. At the dorms he is exactly himself as usual, quiet and unobtrusive, and during their practices for the new set of choreos he is hard-working and diligent, narrowly focused. Chanhee gets distracted watching Juyeon practice his hand movements over and over again, and Changmin scolds Chanhee jokingly, hip-bumping him off balance. Chanhee just shoves Changmin in retaliation, but Juyeon turns away from the mirror, looks over his shoulder to say, “Chanhee's been working hard all day, it’s okay,” before turning away again.

Changmin stares at the back of Juyeon’s head and then turns to look at Chanhee. Chanhee does not fidget uncomfortably; instead he raises his eyebrows in a _weird guy, huh?_ gesture that they’ve used a hundred times before. Changmin seems convinced enough, thankfully. 

The rest of the group arrives after dinner, and they do run-throughs with the cameras set up and their dance coach watching intently. Chanhee knows he’s behind on the transition into the chorus, and when he watches the replay he winces at the look of it, then watches Juyeon’s face, concentrated and charismatic. It’s not the full-blown switch that he does when he’s on stage, but it’s there. 

It’s the closest Chanhee finds to any evidence, really, that and afterwards when their dance coach says they’re done for the day. Juyeon says, “I’ll help you if you want to keep practicing,” exaggeratedly casual, spark of something like _scheming_ showing in his eyes. Chanhee has to run his tongue over his teeth to prevent his smile, and he studiously ignores the feeling of Changmin staring at him across the room as he says, “Sure.”

So perhaps Chanhee has to admit that Juyeon’s straightness is not as concrete as Chanhee thought it was, especially not now, watching himself in the huge wide mirrors of their dance studio, pants around his thighs, his hands in Juyeon’s hair, hypnotised by the look of Juyeon kneeling for him. Not demon possession, Chanhee thinks wildly, filthy noises echoing around the too large room. Just— Juyeon. 

It takes Chanhee a number of days to recover from that particular ambush, more information to assimilate and consider. Of course Juyeon has always liked to show off on stage, and there’s a certain— subterranean element to that, the way Juyeon cooperates so enthusiastically. But that’s _different,_ Juyeon’s stage-self. Performing seductiveness does not give you the magical ability to deep-throat, Chanhee feels. Juyeon must have learnt that _somewhere._

Chanhee corners Juyeon in his little studio room. Eric, thankfully, is not present. Juyeon lets him in and thumps back into his seat, shaking his hair out of his eyes; he’s texting someone, phone looking small in his hands. He’s wearing an oversized shirt, cargo pants, Nike high tops. It just feels so— incongruous. For some reason Chanhee suddenly remembers Juyeon dropping his huge tub of protein powder across the kitchen floor, and then how he'd remained stiff and angry at himself while he vacuumed it all up. 

“So,” Chanhee says, then realises that he doesn’t know quite how to discuss this. Instead of anything normal, he says, “have you told anyone about this?”

Juyeon looks at him, leans his elbow on the chair armrest and holds his chin in his hand. Chanhee flicks his hand back and forth between them, making it clear what he means by _this._

“No,” Juyeon says. Chanhee waits for further explanation, but none is forthcoming.

“No one outside the group?” Chanhee presses. He leans against the desk, doesn’t fold his arms— too obviously defensive. “No, um, no one else you’re involved with?”

Juyeon spins his chair slowly back and forth. “I’m not hooking up with anyone else,” he says evenly.

“But you have, before,” Chanhee says. He feels like he sounds crazy. He probably does sound crazy. 

Juyeon just nods though. “Yeah.”

“Guys too,” Chanhee says, not much of a question. 

Juyeon shrugs easily as if Chanhee isn’t interrogating him quite rudely, then says, “I hook up with guys,” like this is an established, obvious fact. He jerks his eyebrows up, mouth curled in a half smile, like he thinks Chanhee is stupid for asking and is amused by it. Chanhee has the uncomfortable sensation of realising that Juyeon might have a point.

Chanhee has always felt like Juyeon is a reliable presence in the group, non-volatile and dependable in a way that recedes from Chanhee’s attention— he keeps to himself, away from the drama and shifting politics more from unawareness than any deliberate objection. Chanhee has never thought very hard about the other friends Juyeon has outside of the group, let alone what he spends his time doing with them. Juyeon doesn’t mention much and Chanhee tends not to ask. 

“Well,” Chanhee says, then, “Good,” finishing weakly. Juyeon does not seem particularly bothered, and in fact he scoots his chair close to put his phone on the desk and stays there, his elbow on the desk and his face tilted up to look at Chanhee as he surrounds him. 

“Cool,” he says, his spare hand hooking into Chanhee’s belt. Chanhee looks down into his open face and puts both hands on Juyeon’s shoulders, broad lines turned to Chanhee and waiting for his decision. 

Chanhee wonders what the other guys are like. What sort of guy Juyeon likes— if they’re like Chanhee, or if they’re bigger than Juyeon, if they’re bossy, if they’re kind, if Juyeon is himself with them. Chanhee wonders what kind of sex they’ve had, looking at Juyeon’s calm face and thinking of teeth, sweat, strength, the twist of strain at Juyeon’s throat right as he comes. Chanhee has seen that, now, had his hand against it. 

Chanhee likes Juyeon very much, the direct straight line of him, and right now the entirety of that is pointed right at Chanhee. 

“Cool,” Chanhee says, a little mocking, but Juyeon doesn’t seem to notice— or, possibly more accurately, he chooses to ignore it. Chanhee leans down and kisses him. 

***

They’re filming the music video tomorrow. It’s going to be long, long days, and then promotions after that; Chanhee doesn’t know how Juyeon and him will find the time to sneak away. Probably they won’t, not as often as Chanhee would like. 

The practice room has the aircon cranked all the way up, fans clicking as they creak slowly back and forth, and even still the mirrors are steamed up, sweaty. Most of them have taken their shirts off, lying against the floor and sticking to it. Chanhee, more modest, is flapping his shirt against himself, and he watches as Juyeon sits up, red marks and shine at his shoulders, along the planes and lines of his back. 

One day soon, Chanhee thinks with satisfaction, he’ll get to fuck Juyeon properly, really put him through his paces, and it will be very, very good. Chanhee had spent many many years avoiding any thought of the concept, like a steep hill or precipice he knew he’d fall down if he got close enough to peer over the edge. Juyeon hadn’t been tempting to Chanhee’s young gay heart; he’d been pure risk, and Chanhee had quickly and efficiently distanced himself from it. 

And now here Chanhee is, watching Jaehyun easily push Juyeon around, well aware that he has let himself be rolled right down the hill, grass-stained and breathless, landing at the bottom. Thankfully Juyeon had raced him and beaten him there, ever his competitive self. 

Juyeon turns and catches Chanhee watching him. Chanhee winks as he stands up, pops open his water bottle to go splash water on Sunwoo. Chanhee doesn’t need to see Juyeon’s reaction to know that later they’ll manage at least a moment, somehow, maybe tucked into the bathroom with the shower running, or maybe Juyeon will take the rubbish out and Chanhee will go with him, or maybe Chanhee will finally, after all this time, allow his studio room to be desecrated.

***

They were much more careful after that very first time. Back then they had just wandered into the practice room with Juyeon’s arm around Chanhee’s neck, the both of them flush with drink and shocked bravery, and probably the only thing that saved them from anyone— Sunwoo, especially— putting two and two together was how much they didn’t bother to hide it. Sunwoo was backslap-y and jokingly grateful to Juyeon for finding Chanhee, and Chanhee rolled his eyes and dragged Sunwoo off to sit with Changmin, not even looking back at Juyeon as they parted. It was fine.  
  
They are very good at acting like nothing is going on, because most of the time there _isn’t_ anything going on, really. Most of the time they are just Chanhee— New or Chanhee, depending on the day— and Juyeon of The Boyz, and they occupy their roles in front of the camera and behind the scenes easily, and it’s just when they’re locked in a bathroom stall together that things change. 

But that first time it wouldn’t leave them, a static charge sparkling under Chanhee’s skin, the faintest tremble that rose up his back when he looked over and caught sight of Juyeon talking to Sangyeon, talking to staff. Their eyes caught once or twice, and Chanhee felt a grin break out across his face, conspiracy strung delicate and glass-bright between them.

Thinking of Juyeon now— thinking of the two of them crammed into a storeroom making out for ten minutes, not even getting off; or getting ready to leave the dorm, Juyeon crouching to find Chanhee’s shoes for him, buried underneath everyone else’s sneakers, brushing them off carefully once he fishes them out—, Chanhee wonders if it had ever fully faded after that day, or if it had just receded like a departing tide, hiding unseen and gathering strength before returning as a great swell with momentum behind it. 

***

**Author's Note:**

> A first foray into the realm of deobiville! Thank you for reading. Definitely still working out characterisation and worldbuilding and so on; advice, feedback and concrit appreciated as always!


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